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Nighttime at 393 Ross Street poses a strange quiet that Jonah, ever since he was a little boy, enjoys. Even as an adult, he craves how the house creates its own noises: floorboards and bricks moving; something in the walls scurrying; window glass ever so slightly shifting in their frames from the December wind. It’s not haunting or offers goose pimples, although some would say it does. For Jonah, the sounds sweep him back to a time before his current relationship with Sandy and his failed relationship with Lucas Beam, bridging into childhood, reaching out to a time when he was maybe twelve or thirteen years old and learning that he felt different than the other boys in the sixth grade. How bizarre those early days of his life were, comprehending puberty and questioning his attraction to o